


Thanksgiving Kisses

by merry_amelie



Series: Academic Arcadia [38]
Category: Star Wars Episode I: The Phantom Menace
Genre: Alternate Reality, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2004-11-24
Updated: 2004-11-24
Packaged: 2018-02-04 23:59:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,489
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1798084
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/merry_amelie/pseuds/merry_amelie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A Prentice Thanksgiving.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Thanksgiving Kisses

**Author's Note:**

> Feedback: Is treasured at merryamelie@aol.com (or leave a comment).
> 
> Disclaimer: Mr. Lucas owns everything Star Wars. I'm not making any money.
> 
> For Alex, my friend and beta.

Thanksgiving was easier to plan for Quinn and Ian this year than their other holidays. The Mastersons were staying the week with their California relatives, leaving Quinn free to spend all day with the Prentices. When he'd arrived to take them to the airport, his mother had presented Quinn with a batch of walnut brownies and a kiss on the cheek. She and her husband had hoped Quinn would accompany them on their visit.

Quinn couldn't join them, however; he and Ian had a paper to submit a few days after Thanksgiving, and needed to revise it during their 'vacation'. Necessity blended seamlessly with preference this time: Quinn had wanted to be with his lover for the holiday, and now had a legitimate reason to stay home.

This was the first Thanksgiving Quinn would share with the Prentices, since last year each man had been with his own family. A cause for celebration in and of itself, their joint holiday this year had lent a quiet joy to the season.

By the time Ian and Quinn arrived in Padua at 10 am, Jo and Kathy had been in the kitchen for an hour, and were specked in pumpkin pulp and flour. Exchanging a look that said 'funky jack o'lanterns', the professors offered to help. Jo packed them off to a local bakery to get finger rolls and mocha cake. Since they'd brought the THX, Ian took the passenger seat.

"This brings back memories," said Ian. "It's Mom's classic method of getting the guys out of the house before company arrives. When I was a kid, Dad and I would go, while Monty kept out of Mom's way in his bedroom."

"How about hiding in your room when we come back?" Quinn teased.

Ian chuckled. "Now there's an idea. I have a feeling Mom doesn't want to see us until the feast starts at 2."

There was a line at the shop, mostly comprised of men, presumably in the same boat as Ian and Quinn. Ian could tell from the clerks' grins, as well as the size of the parcels, that the men were doing a lot of impulse buying. Quinn and Ian bought only the cake and rolls, however, knowing that Kathy and Jo were making enough to stock a commissary.

When they got home, the smell of turkey with sage gravy permeated the house. Monty and Keith were bringing extra chairs into the dining room, so Ian and Quinn put down their packages to help them. Then they scoured the basement to find a leaf for the table.

After a morning without privacy, Quinn was quick to take advantage of their situation. "Mmmm. I've never kissed you down here before." Quinn backed Ian against the washer, lean thigh between Ian's own, and had him agitated in a matter of seconds.

"Yeah. Errands'r'good." Words ran together when Ian spoke, in a voice gone breathless with craving.

Only the creak of stairs when Monty came to get the cider broke them apart. Luckily, the light was dim, so he couldn't see the flush on their faces. Quinn found the jug under some fallen wrapping paper, and the table leaf turned out to be on a shelf under sedimentary layers of bric-a-brac.

After assembling the table, Ian and Quinn were shooed upstairs when the women came in to set it, much to their delight. The first thing Quinn did was lock the door, turning to gather an amorous Ian into his arms. His impulse was to resume their interrupted kiss, but he'd had time to cool off a little, and Monty's inadvertent intrusion had done nothing for Quinn's comfort level. Quinn berated himself for his earlier impulsiveness in the basement. If he couldn't keep his hands off Ian, how could he expect the reverse? Just because he found it a bit easier to settle down at his age didn't mean he should expect the same of his incendiary lover.

"Sorry, lad," Quinn crooned, rubbing Ian's shoulders soothingly, using his arms to keep their bodies a small distance apart. "I should have known better than to start up downstairs."

Ian gave Quinn a tense smile. "S'okay, love. I would've done it myself if you hadn't."

Quinn whispered a kiss on Ian's temple, while the model of R2D2 on Ian's old desk looked on in amazement at their control. "At least we'll be home in a few hours, lad. Anything you want there."

A wistful look, then Ian kissed the bridge of Quinn's nose. "You're right." Ian sighed. "Might as well get started on the editing."

The professors had brought their laptops, with drafts of their joint paper, hoping they'd have time for revision during the lazy afternoon. Ian sprawled on the floor, slacks tight over his thighs when he raised his knees as a platform for his notebook, leaving the desk to Quinn. They both avoided the bed, in unspoken agreement, as too great a temptation. Quinn fancifully thought that the clicks and beeps of his computer sounded like R2D2 was 'talking' to them, and wondered what the droid was saying. They set to work, only resurfacing when Keith knocked on the door to get them.

Ian's uncles Mal and Rory had arrived, along with their wives, and Quinn put a hand on Ian's arm at his imperceptible wince. They greeted the relatives politely, and joined them in the living room, where Keith had the television on for the Luke football game. The Skyhawks were playing Darthmouth, the alma mater of Ian's uncles, in a grudge match. The score was currently 11-38 in Luke's favor; the tension in the room was palpable.

Monty, Quinn, and Ian sat on the couch, surrounded by aunts and uncles on chairs. Ian's left hand was on his own thigh; he looked up to find Rory staring at him; from his angle, it appeared that Ian's fingers were on Quinn's thigh instead. Ian deliberately kept his hand where it was until Rory looked away, then put it on his stomach instead. Luckily, Ian still remembered his uncle's face when Kathy and Monty kissed by the punchbowl at her birthday party a few years back, and didn't take it personally.

Fortunately, Jo called them in for dinner before swords were drawn.

The Thanksgiving table was truly a groaning board, with all the traditional fixin's spread out for their enjoyment. Keith gave the blessing, smiling at them all in turn while he spoke. That warm smile reiterated that Quinn was part of the family, as he'd been almost from the moment Ian had told his mother about them.

Jo and Keith were at the ends of the table; sons and their mates on one side, aunts and uncles on the other. Lelia was asleep upstairs. Quinn and Ian cheerfully dug into the feast, conversation swirling around them, in which they occasionally participated.

Jo and Kathy got many compliments, especially on the cornbread stuffing. Quinn grinned, knowing that they'd be taking some home with them.

Tapping Ian's arm, Monty said, "We're planning to go skating on Sunday. Would you guys like to come along?"

"If we can send out our paper first, we'd love to," said Ian.

Quinn's eyes crinkled. "You've just given us the best incentive, Monty."

Spearing a baby carrot, Monty said, "The carrot's always better than the stick."

"Not necessarily," said Ian, barely able to hold in his laughter as he brandished the cinnamon stick from his cider.

Groans all around, but everyone at the table was familiar with the impish humor of the younger generation. Kathy and Jo brought out the desserts, but didn't have many takers since there was a migration to the television once again. Quinn, of course, was an exception.

"'Filling in the corners' now, are you, Quinn?" Ian teased, smiling as his lover ate a chocolate cherry.

"That's what hobbits do, Ian."

"Well, you're the biggest hobbit I've ever seen. Must be a wizard-halfling hybrid, maybe some Ent in the mix."

"Ent so, I'm afraid," Quinn drawled. "Perhaps the wizard part, though."

Fortunately, by this time they were alone at the table, so there were no additional groans at the Tolkien allusions.

After helping with the clean-up, then digesting for an hour in front of the TV, Ian and Quinn headed home with a bag of leftovers.

As soon as they were through the door, Ian finally got his proper kiss. "Ahh, that's a hungry kiss for a man who's been feasting."

"But it isn't food I'm hungering for now, is it?" Quinn gave Ian another searing kiss, then pressed in nose to nose. "Of all the blessings I've known, I'm most thankful for you, lad."

Ian looked up at him, adoration lighting his eyes. "It's the same for me, Quinn."

Quinn poured all of his thankfulness into their next kiss, which left Ian trembling in his arms. Now that Quinn had Ian in his life, he knew what Thanksgiving really meant.


End file.
